


The ghost of you

by Shiba_K



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiba_K/pseuds/Shiba_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from Before the Flood: while out searching for Lunn, Clara encounters the Doctor's ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The ghost of you

Only a few of the yellowish lights were on with the base set in night mode, shrouding the corridors in darkness. The feeble they gave off made the greenish blue glow of the water coming from the ceiling windows cast bizarre moving shadows on the walls. 

‘Lunn!’

The air was dank and heavy with the smell of the mould on the walls, and Clara tried hard to ignore the dampness where her fingers touched it. An eerie silence permeated the place as even the mechanical whirr of the air-system was barely audible. The flick-flick sound of falling water droplets somewhere behind her, offered little respite. An ever increasing sense of dread twisted her stomach in knots.

‘Lunn!’ she hissed again, with no response. 

Clara saw no choice but to head further into the darkness in front of her. 

She was regretting having sent Lunn out all by himself to try and get the phone back. Guilt had crept up almost immediately after she had closed the door to the Faraday cage on his back. But damn it, she… no _they_ , they needed to stay in contact with the Doctor. 

What if he needed to know more about his ghost? Any precious little detail they could provide that might help prevent the future from happening was crucial. 

The phone was essential. They had to get it back.

Cass’ accusatory glares had been hard to ignore, and so too her resentment toward Clara. She would have had to be blind to not see how close Cass and Lunn were. And she had had a first hand in forcefully separating them. Maybe for good. 

_No, don’t think like that, Clara. That way lies madness. Always assume you are going to win._

She tried hard to reassure herself, beat her fear into a corner of her mind. She had been in situations like these before. She knew what needed to be done. The Doctor trusted her to do what was right, and Clara wasn’t about to let him down. 

_The Doctor will save us._

That’s what she had told Lunn, a rephrasing of the Doctor’s earlier words to her: ‘I can save you!’.

And that was what was going to happen. The Doctor would come back to save them and soon this whole ghostly ordeal would be nothing but a bad memory. 

_He has to. He swore to me he would._

Clara’s left hand clenched into a fist as she took another quiet step forward. The bite of her nails in her palm helped keep the tears at that threatened to fall at the thought of the Time Lord. She would not give in to the anguish that had squeezed her heart when she had seen the Doctor’s ghost. She couldn’t break down, not now, not when there were people’s lives depending on her. 

Clara had to trust the Doctor. In the meantime, she needed call on her control-freak tendencies and get a hold of her emotions. 

Another step.

A swoosh of air suddenly caressed the back of her neck causing the small hairs there to stand on end and her skin to break out in goosebumps. 

Clara froze. 

Her heart was galloping wildly in her chest while her body tensed with adrenaline as it prepared itself to either flee or flight. No thinking, just pure instincts. 

There was something behind her. One of the ghosts. It had found her.

_Stupid Clara!_ She cursed herself mentally for letting her guard down at the worst possible moment. It was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make right now.

Turning ever so slowly, but ready to bolt at any moment, Clara glanced over her left shoulder dreading to see those horrible empty black eyes of the ghosts. A gasp of shock escaped her when she found herself face to face with the one ghost she had hoped to never have to see again. 

It was him. The Doctor. Her friend, her companion… dead.

Clara wanted to run, knew she _needed_ to run, yet her feet remained firmly glued to the floor, unmoving as she stared at the blackness where the Doctor’s gray eyes would normally be. 

_Nonononono. This is not happening. He is NOT dead!_

Her mind screamed the words while her body refused to leave. There were so many emotions waging a war inside her right now: hurt and grief stabbing at her heart and tearing into it, but anger too. Anger at the injustice of it all, anger toward the Doctor for getting himself killed, for leaving her. 

Had this been what the Doctor had felt when he thought she had been killed on Skaro? This overwhelming urge to rage against everyone and everything, desperate to deny all the evidence pointing to that one unacceptable conclusion? Prepared even to murder Daleks in cold blood or change the laws of time?

Clara’s overwrought mind finally snapped and in that moment everything came pouring out of her, the dam having finally burst under the powerful onslaught of her emotions.

‘Why?’ she asked the Doctor voice raspy with sorrow. One tear fell soundlessly from the corner of her eye, followed by a second and then a third. 

‘Why,’ Clara repeated her question though her voice acquiring a new steely quality to it as her temper rose. She swallowed and licked her lips tasting the salt of her tears.

‘Why did you have to go and get yourself killed? Hu? You stupid, alien man! You…’ she stepped forward uncaring of the danger she was in, feeding off on the burst of anger, ‘you promised me, Doctor, promised you’d come back, to save us, to save me.’

Her tears continued to cascade down her cheeks pooling beneath her chin and falling down in big fat drops, leaving wet round stains on her plaid dress.

‘You can’t leave me, not now, not like this, not when… when… I,’ she choked on her words, ‘ _need_ you.’

The silence in the underwater base was only broken by Clara’s soft sobs.

Seconds stretched into minutes as she stood there crying in front of the ghost of the man that come to mean too much to her to put it into words. Although eventually, Clara’s foggy brain come to realize two things: one, the ghost hadn’t moved an inch; two, he was unarmed. 

Reality reasserted itself, the gravity of the situation sinking in making Clara take an instinctive step back, self-preservation finally kicking. She desperately needed to rein in her out of control emotions. Her mind gradually started to clear a bit now that it had a new mystery to focus on, something to distract her from the crushing pain in her chest. 

The Doctor’s ghost hadn’t made any attempts at killing her. Why not, Clara reasoned, when all the others had immediately set after them as soon as anyone was spotted? 

_Because I’d never kill you. You are the last person I would ever kill._

The words she had spoken to him when trapped inside the Dalek’s shell came to her. Was that why? Would the Doctor’s feeling be strong enough to override the ghost’s programming to create more transmitters?

She had made a Dalek say mercy. 

And he was the Doctor. 

Clara frowned at the specter in front of her. It was unnerving the way it kept staring at her, like it was seeing right through her, inside her, all the while just standing there, its form slightly see-through and blurry at the edges.

Was it perhaps scanning for the message? See if it was inside her? No, something told her that wasn’t it. There had to be something else. It seemed almost as if the ghost was waiting.

‘Doctor?’

His name did the trick and the ghostly Doctor surged toward her forcing Clara to take a step back, pressing against the curved wall of the corridor. 

Shit, she was trapped. Had she let down her guard too much? Misinterpreted him? No, if it had really wanted to kill her it had had ample opportunity to do so while she had been crying. Surprisingly, Clara didn’t sense any hostile intent coming from the ghost. 

Stopping mere centimeters from her face, the ghost Doctor tilted its head, moving from side to side unhurriedly, studying her intently. She couldn’t do much beside stare wide eyed, barely daring to breath. 

‘Doctor,’ her eyes pleaded with it, searching the black void for any sign of recognition. ‘Please, please come back. I can’t lose you.’ She was conscious that she had been reduced to begging for the second time that day. ‘Come back to me.’

Clara watched helplessly as the Doctor’s ghost began to mouth something. Lips moving silently with no sound escaping his mouth. Initially she had difficulties understanding exactly what it was saying, but then she recognized the movement of his lips. A word she had seen and heard the Doctor speak a thousand times over.

Her name.

Clara.

Clara. Clara. Clara. Clara. Clara. Clara.

Over and over again the specter kept repeating it, and Clara didn’t think she had ever longed to hear his Scottish brogue rumble through his chest and rolling the ‘r’ over his tongue as much as had did now. 

Unconsciously her hand lifted to its chest, halting when she remembered that she couldn’t touch it. Her fingers hovered a few centimeters from its nearly transparent torso, but she only sensed the damp air of the base, and not the subdued warmth of the Time Lord. If he had been alive, she would have felt his breath, seen the rise and fall of his chest, smelled his scent. Now though, there was only emptiness.

It hit her like a bucket of ice water, and Clara was sure she felt her heart shatter into tiny fragments inside her. Hot tears once more prickled at the back of her eyes, forcing her to blink rapidly to stop them from spilling over. 

Curling her fingers into a fist, Clara let her hand drop back to her side in defeat. 

The ghost Doctor tilted his head downwards shifting his stance a little to follow the movement before straightening again. New words formed on his lips, but this time Clara couldn’t make them out. Too many and spoken too fast. Really, where was Cass when you needed her?

Cass!

Clara’s eyes widened in shock as it finally dawned on her that she had been alone all this time, meaning that she and Cass had gotten separated. She had been so caught up by the appearance of the Doctor’s ghost and her breakdown that she had totally forgotten about Cass, who, with no one to be her ears for her, was in even more danger than her. 

_Brilliantly done, Clara. Really fine job you did there_ , she sarcastically scolded herself. _I need to get a grip and actually start using my head. Find Cass, find Lunn, no distractions._

It was difficult to leave the ghost, but she knew she had to find Cass. Clara might have gotten lucky with having encountered the Doctor’s ghost, but she was well aware that the others would have no qualms with killing her or Cass. Hopefully her theory regarding Lunn not having the words inside him would keep him safe.

Allowing herself one last mournful look at his ghostly body, she addressed the Doctor. 

‘You’d better come back or I will personally hunt your ghost for the rest of eternity,’ she said in warning. Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the wall, away from the one person who could destroy her, and walked back in the direction she had come.

Clara didn’t dare look back for fear of breaking down again. 

_Chin up, shoulders back, Oswald. Show these ghosts what you are made of._

************************

They were back in the TARDIS, both of them safe and sound. The ghosts had been dealt with, the Fisher King dead at the bottom of the lake, and the Doctor had kept his promise to her. Clara hadn’t dared to let him out of her sight from the moment the hibernation chamber had hissed open and out he had jumped, surprising everyone, until they had stepped into the safety of the TARDIS and taken off.

Once they had left, the Doctor had explained to her what had happened. How he had reverse-engineered his holographic ghost, and how he had lured the Fisher King into a trap. It had sort of made sense until the moment he had brought up the excellent question of exactly when he had had the idea of creating the hologram in the first place. 

Clara’s head hurt as she tried to find the logic in what had happened. How had the Doctor called it? The Bootstrap paradox. The more she thought about it, the less sense everything made. With an annoyed huff, she set the Doctor’s dark blue coat on the coffee table in front of the couch. Sewing supplies were strewn on top of it, silent witnesses to the mending of the torn shoulder. 

The last visible reminder of the Doctor’s supposed death. Gone now.

Heedless of the mess, Clara spread the coat out onto the table, scrutinizing her work. It looked okay to her, and she supposed it would last for another adventure. 

Letting go of the garment, she fell back against the couch, leaning her head backwards. Alone in the library, Clara had claimed one of her favorite spots: a couch hidden between high bookshelves stacked with ancient tomes and a crackling fireplace in one corner, always lit, courtesy of the sentient ship. It was warm and cozy, exactly what she had needed. 

She had retreated here after the Doctor had left her in the console room, mumbling something about brushing his teeth. She had seen his torn coat discarded on the railing near the stairs leading to the upper level. The ripped shoulder had unsettled her, a glaring reminder of what could have been, and she had decided to fix it. 

Staring at the ceiling for what seemed like ages, Clara’s mind wondered aimlessly over what the day’s events. 

When they had arrived at the underwater base, she had been riding on a high of running and saving planets. A high that had been greatly fueled by the Doctor’s presence at her side. Them being separated had cut her off from part of that addicting rush. Suddenly he was gone, with the prospect of it being permanent. Clara had balked. She needed her fix like the addict that she was. 

Addicted to the Doctor. In love with the Doctor. Strange how those two things always mixed. 

She wasn’t particularly proud of the way she had handled things. She knew she had acted selfishly, both with Cass and Lunn, and especially with the Doctor, manipulating him and his feelings for her. Because she knew he did love her. Clara had come to realize since Christmas that he did, very deeply. Today had driven home that she loved him just as much. Being confronted as she had been with his death had been pure agony.

And then there was the visit from his ghost. _No_ , she corrected herself, _his hologram_.

At the time it had deeply disturbed her, but now Clara had the impression that she was missing a piece of the puzzle. What had it been trying to tell her? 

A calloused fingertip smoothing the crease between her eyebrows was the first sign that she was no longer alone in her little sanctuary. Clara blinked.

‘You’re frowning. I don’t like to see a frown on your face, Clara,’ his rumbling voice came from somewhere behind her, and soon a mop of silver hair and a pair of gray eyes entered her field of vision.

‘What is it that has you brooding in the library?’

They gazed wordlessly at each other upside down until Clara started to feel her neck cramp and she straightened up breaking their eye contact. The Doctor then walked around the couch to where Clara was sitting and joined her. He sank into the dark red cushions, stretching his long body and propping up his feet on a relatively empty spot on the table, crossing his legs at his ankles. 

There was a good foot of space separating them, but Clara quickly closed it by pressing herself into his side. Automatically, the Doctor’s arm left rose to rest on the back of the couch allowing her better access, her own ones wrapping around his upper body, fingers gripping his hoodie. 

Burying her face in his shoulder, Clara inhaled deeply the scent coming from his jumper, a mixture of different smells that together created his familiar scent. Immediately more and more of the day’s tension melted away from her and she felt the Doctor’s body relax too as he took a deep breath before expelling it in a long drawn out sigh. 

They stayed like that for a while, quiet and simply unwinding from their adventure. The Doctor ran the fingers of his left through Clara’s hair from time to time, enjoying its silkiness and committing it to memory. 

‘You, mostly,’ Clara answered eventually, raising her head slightly in order to be able to see him. 

The Doctor’s eyebrows rose. 

‘Me?’ he pointed at himself with his free hand. Clara caught it and brought it down to his chest stroking it absentmindedly, her index finger tracing one of the veins on the back of his hand. 

The Doctor observed the movement for a second and then looked back at her. 

‘What have I done now to put that frown on your face, my Clara?’

The corner of her lips curled up in a smile at the endearment for a second, though it disappeared when her mind strayed into the memories of the day. 

‘You making me think you had died.’

‘Clara,’ her name came out as a weary sigh, ‘I…’ he started, his voice filled with an apologetic tone.

Clara moved quickly, repositioning her body so she was facing him. 

‘No, please, don’t say anything, Doctor. I… I should be the one apologizing, for what I said to you over the phone, and especially _how_ I said it.’

Her gaze dropped from his eyes in shame to where her hand now rested low on his stomach, watching it move up and down with the Doctor’s breathing. It was very reassuring to feel his body solid and alive under her touch. The Doctor’s right hand covered hers turning it over and intertwining their fingers, palms pressing against each other. He too was in need of the comfort offered solely by physical touch. 

Taking a deep breath, Clara gathered the courage to continue. She was very aware that the Doctor and her were straying into dangerous territory of things both usually preferred to leave unsaid. 

‘I know you … _care_ , you said as much in the TARDIS and I really shouldn’t have questioned you they way I did, Doctor.’

Her eyes flickered nervously from their clasped hands to his eyes while she bit her lower lip. 

‘I shouldn’t have doubted for even a second that you would come back. Because hey, yeah here you are. You came back to me … like you always do.’ The last part came out as a whisper and the Doctor had to strain to hear it. 

Wide brown eyes gazed into ancient gray ones, communicating mutely words that neither dared to say out loud. 

_I came back to you._

It was just one more way of saying that he loved her. The Doctor wasn’t about to jinx them by speaking those actual words out loud. Nor was Clara for that matter.

‘I guess I panicked and let my emotions get the better of me. I’m really sorry, Doctor, but faced with a possible future with you dead…’ 

Clara took a shaky breath that caused a sort of instinctive reaction in the Doctor. He tugged at their linked hands, bringing Clara closer to him. She curled against his chest with his left arm dropping from the back rest of the couch to wrap around her waist, their hands resting above his hearts. 

‘Clara, Clara, Clara.’ Her name comforting them both in different ways. 

Seeing her upset was unacceptable, the need to ensure Clara was happy too strong. Today had been merely another example of how far he was willing to go for her. She need only snap her fingers and the Doctor would do her bidding. It was that simple. 

He should be furious with her for keeping him on such a tight leash. Yet the only thing he felt right now was a sort of peaceful happiness and a sense that for once all was right in the universe as he held Clara Oswald in his arms. 

They stayed like that for a long time, cuddling, basking in the calmness of the library and the company of the other. Yet Clara found it difficult to completely give herself over to the moment. Despite having gotten the apology off her chest, something still bothered her. Curiosity niggled at the back of her mind and prevented her from fully relaxing. 

‘Clara, it’s hard to unwind with your mind thinking so hard,’ complained the Doctor. 

Clara rolled her eyes.

‘You know I hate it when you do that.’

‘Do what?’ he asked innocently, lips pursed trying to hold back a smile.

She glanced up, catching his mischievous expression. ‘Read my mind. It’s rude, you know.’ She wasn’t really cross with him, nor did she mind too much, but she couldn’t admit it to him. The Doctor needed to develop some more social skills before she could let him get away with things like these. 

‘it’s rather difficult not to, Clara, with you so close to me.’ He emphasized his point by tightening his arm. ‘Next time you should make a card for me.’

Clara laughed, a joyful sound that warmed his chest. ‘Yeah, maybe I will,’ she answered, looking at him, eyes sparkling. 

The Doctor the started stroking Clara’s palm with his thumb sending tingles up and down her arm. She in turn poked the fingers of her free hand through the holes of his jumper, touching the white T-shirt underneath. They carried on with their little caresses for quite a bit until the Doctor broke the stillness once more.

‘So come on then, out with it.’ 

‘It’s stupid,’ Clara said in a huff. ‘It’s just that… I, when Cass and I went looking for Lunn, we got separated, and it was then that I encountered your hologram.’

She felt the Doctor’s body tense under her hand. ‘I know, I know, it was stupid and dangerous, but panic remember.’ 

The Doctor frowned disapprovingly at her and Clara could see he was internally debating whether or not to scold her for her reckless behavior. In the end he remained silent, though she received a look telling her that they would be revisiting the subject at a later date. 

In an attempt to soothe him, Clara stopped poking his chest in favor of smoothing her finger over the lines between his eyebrows, copying his earlier action. 

‘Your hologram, it spoke to me,’ Clara said while tracing his attack eyebrow down to his cheekbone and the up again, his skin surprisingly soft under her fingertips. ‘First my name, over and over, but then you, _it_ , it started saying something else that I couldn’t make out.’ 

The Doctor emitted a non-committal sound.

Clara stilled her ministrations at that. 

‘And you know what he was saying, don’t you? Because you programmed him, either before or after having the idea or whatever. Time paradoxes give me a headache.’

Sliding his finger from her hand, the Doctor brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear.

‘The chamber will open tonight.’

‘What?’

‘That was his message. It was telling you to go to the hibernation chamber because I was in it,’ he explained. ‘It was very cryptic I know, but I didn’t have time to program anything else. I was a little short on that.’ He gave her a tight-lipped apologetic smile. 

Allowing the information to sink in for a moment, Clara stayed quiet mulling over this new piece of information. 

‘You were trying to tell me that you were coming back.’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, Doctor.’ 

Straightening up, Clara brought herself eye level with him and cupped his face with both hands. 

‘I don’t know what I did to deserve you, my gray-haired stick insect.’ 

The Doctor grumbled at his nickname, but still smiled softly at Clara, bumping his forehead against hers affectionately. 

Something shifted then in the atmosphere around them as the occupants of the room both realized just how close they were sitting. The air went from tranquil to sparking with a nervous sort of energy in the blink of an eye. Their smiles faded as they stared, both of their breathing becoming slightly shallower. Clara watched mesmerized as the Doctor’s eyes went from gray to blue. 

They were so close, most parts of their chests brushed against the other with each inhalation. Clara’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, the Doctor’s gaze snapping down to follow the action with great interest. His own lips parted in response, and Clara couldn’t help but wonder what he’d taste like. 

The Doctor dropped his feet from the coffee table, setting them down on the ground and straightening his body. 

‘Clara.’ It was a warning that she promptly ignored. She was tired of speaking in riddles while knowing there were other ways of expressing what they were feeling without words. Much more direct methods that required a new level of intimacy that they had been slowly but surely gravitating towards. She felt her stomach drop with anticipation as she slowly angled her head to the right. 

Clara saw that despite his warning, the Doctor wasn’t backing away instead inclining his head a little to one side to help her. They hesitated a second lips barely touching and their hot breaths intermingling. Clara’s eyes flickered to his then back down to his lips before she finally closed the gap. 

The first touch was merely a tentative brush, cool lips ghosting almost shyly over Clara’s warm ones, and they pulled back quickly. 

The Doctor stared at Clara through half-hooded eyes admiring the flush in her cheeks and glistening lips. His rational mind was screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that he was already too close to her and he would only get burned. A much bigger part of him, however, was telling him equally loudly that he should just kiss her again. 

He had never been much of a stickler for the rules. 

Dipping his head, the Doctor reclaimed Clara’s mouth, this time not letting go. It was almost as if that first kiss had lowered the last barriers between them, the Doctor and Clara giving in to their feelings, their embrace rapidly going from chaste to passionate.

For all of his aversion to touching, Clara found that the Doctor was a demanding kisser, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips begging for entrance. She let him wait for a bit, though she was quick to grant him access when he bit her lower lip.

Soft sighs filled the library as their tongues met and stroked each other. Clara discovered he tasted of the sugary coffee he had drunk earlier as she chased his tongue back into his mouth, running hers along his sharp teeth. Meanwhile his hands were busily roaming over her back and shoulders, eventually settling for holding her face.

Her own hands traveled up to tangle in the mass of silvery curls while she shifted from where she sat against his side to straddling his lap, his hips framed by her thighs. Their sighs turned to low moans at the new contact.

The Doctor was fast losing himself in the feel and taste of her. He focused on exploring Clara’s hot mouth as they battled for dominance, their competitive natures emerging strong as ever. 

Having noticed how she had shivered when he had nipped at her bottom lip, the Doctor worried it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. He was rewarded by Clara grinding her hips against his. Her movement drew breathless gasps from both of them forcing them to part, their lips separating with a wet sound. 

Trying to regain control of her breathing, Clara rested her forehead against the Doctor’s, her eyes closed still feeling his lips on hers. The Doctor on the other hand, was gazing at her swollen lips, his hands wandering from the soft skin of her face to her hips, thumbs drawing lazy circles on her sides. 

‘Sorry,’ Clara finally managed to mumble sheepishly, ‘got a bit carried away.’ 

One hand rose to tip her chin upwards so he could catch her eye. There was a lovely blush coloring her skin that went all the way down the collar of Clara’s sweater. The Doctor wondered just how far it went. Another time maybe he would have liked to explore further, but for today a few kisses were all he would allow. Clara was tired, and not just physically. There were still shadows in her normally sparkling eyes. And he himself was feeling the day’s events. He had aged another 150 years… 

‘It’s okay, I don’t mind.’ 

A quick peck on her still parted lips underlined his words. 

The Doctor then proceeded to settle back against the couch, legs open and stretched out and Clara Oswald perched on his lap. He let out a breath, his body melting into the soft cushions behind him. 

Clara seemed content to remain were she was. Her hands had stayed tangled in his hair, and now she tenderly massaged his scalp. A purr of pure satisfaction escaped him, and she watched how the Doctor closed his eyes and gave himself over to her soothing touch, going as far as pushing his head into her hands. He was like an enormous cat being petted by his owner.

She spent quite some time doing that, occasionally deviating from her path to caress his brow or jaw, adding one or two quick kisses here and there. He gazed at her each time through half-closed eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

‘Clara.’

Her name was a soft murmur coming from somewhere deep inside his chest. She smiled in response, leaning in to brush her lips against his ear. 

‘I’ll come back to you too,’ Clara whispered. 

The Doctor’s eyes opened a fraction more, studying her before they closed completely. He gathered her close to him and mumbled something indistinguishable. That was okay, she knew what he meant. 

Finally feeling safe and whole, Clara snuggled into his half asleep body, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent. She fell asleep drifting on a cloud of bliss. 

Fin


End file.
